Teabagger nights

It's 3am and I am hungry. Caffienated with a headache hinting at my right temple, but it's an all-good kind of night.

Annual dinner tomorrow! My third in five years. Let's hope they don't give out last year's door gifts as lucky draw prizes again.

Bangkok, Thailand.

Suvarnabumi Airport. Such an enchanting name. The smog – not so enchanting. The shopping – very enticing. The local charm – a little cloying.

Here’s the bit that’s priceless. The feeling you get, on a weekday morning, on your own at a train station, in a foreign land, headed towards nothing but possibilities of enjoying yourself for the day. When everyone around you is going to work. Makes me literally float around and laugh in annoying lilting tones.

Something else memorable – sitting in my first guesthouse room (Pranee Building, Soi Kasem San 1) bawling over pages of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. In the middle of the night for fear of a) bad hair from going to bed with wet hair and b) things that go bump in guesthouse nights.

The Day I Got Really Clever

I recognized that I’d saw it coming.
I said the things I should have never stopped myself from saying.
I exposed you.
Despite not knowing what I would see.
I rolled with my gut. I reel from it still.
I was full of bravado, and I am spent from it still.
I hurt myself.
Maybe, I broke you too.
We were headed there anyway.
But no one deserves to be hurt in that way.
We both chose.
I’m learning still.
I saw what I needed.
But I’m reeling still.

"While your parents are alive, you should not go too far afield in your travels. If you do, your whereabouts should always be known"

Like I said, I’m reading Confucius. I did expect to, and found some antiquated sayings, but was also pleasantly surprised to see that the Master was….

a decent relationship advice-giver…

The Master said “In his errors a man is true to type. Observe the errors and you will know the man”.

pretty damn funny…

Chi Wen always thought three times before taking action. When the Master was told of this, he commented “Twice is quite enough”.

a romantic...

The Master commented, “He did not really think of her. If he did, there is no such thing as being far away”.

downright relevant…

The Master said “ It is rare for a man to miss the mark through holding on to essentials”.

“To attack a task from the wrong end can do nothing but harm”.

And for better or worse pivotal, to the core of the Chinese judgment and mentality:

The Master said, “It is rare, indeed, for a man with cunning words and an ingratiating face to be benevolent”.

Did your parents, or even you ever look at someone for the first time, and go "chan hai yong suei lor" or "that man's face is kan tou sei"?
Yea, that makes two of us.

Hong Kong, Hong Kong.

View from Victoria Peak, Hong Kong Island.

Bustling as they say, not as unfriendly and expensive to get a meal as expected though. The dimsum IS great, roasted goose personally is overrated, and yes Cantonese does help get you around.

17-21 October 2007. Family, bauble-shopping, catching up, fishballs so bouncy they induce toothaches, too much walking in not-so-right shoes, trams that run backwards downhill, bus drivers who step on it the nano-second you alight, people who walk and talk right into you. The Light Show from Aqua at One Peking, the old-school ferry ride across the harbour after.

Not unlike in KL, it's nice to see old and new things co-exist.

The Neighbourhood

The little three storey shelf is a bustling place. On the ground level reside pale yellow RM8 Penguin editions of James Joyce, Henry James, an Edgar Allen Poe. Also a rickety combination of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre, Treasure Island, assorted haunted and unhaunted fairytales, and Bram Stoker’s Dracula where it all began.

One floor up the serious favourites reign – Maugham, Orwell, Dahl and Rushdie hold their own in hard-bound omnibuses, paperbacks and dog-eared childhood copies of both well-known tales and the odd essay or prose.

Still higher is an eclectic mish-mash of pairs, trios and quintuplets of authors who respectfully managed to entice purchases beyond the first encounter - A.A. Milne, John Kennedy Toole, Banana Yoshimoto, Steinbeck, Wilde, Gibran, Carson McCullers and Roddy Doyle.

The rooftop is fashion high street – Penguin Read Red adventures with their crimson overleaf share space with Cecilia Ahern’s pretty, heart-rending brand of chick lit. Skip to the adjacent shelf and tucked in the corner are the Little Books – collections of Cicely Mary Barker, Mitch Albom, Freud and Confucius in appetizer portions resting atop a gift of Chairman Mao’s quotations.

Cross the room and you will find on the lofty top shelf the fabulous Singles. The Beach (yes the Leo DiCaprio movie), Kazuo Ishiguro’s Potrait of a Floating World, Peter Pan, To Kill a Mockingbird, Sylvia Plath, Ken Kesey and a few others powerful enough to evoke realisations, potential heaviness of the heart and laughter that catches you unaware each time attempted.

A jar of pencils sensibly divide these from some paperback heavyweights– the complete novels of Jane Austen, Tales from the Arabian Nights, and the alphabetical guide to Greek Classical Mythology, admittedly yet to be leafed but reassuring in their quiet promise of a good read.

Yet more un-reads on the coffee table by the bed, a variety of short stories, movie tie-ins, plays, and fiction from Shakespeare to Jonathan Safran Foer. Each in this row seems to promise a good time simply by being something new.

I wonder if books could speak, what would they say?

Songs

Hey there Delilah by the Plain White T's.

Have you heard the song? I'm very fond of it, but it makes me kind of sad everytime I hear it because it's so full of hope, of the hope-with-abandon kind, which is the worst because it then becomes unbearably crushing if things don't actually work out. And the naivety in presuming that one person could manage everything that could pull a relationship through, without quite considering that just maybe, the other person doesn't feel the same way? Poor fella.


Everything by Michael Buble, now that somehow always makes me smile. Don't know how he's like in real life but lucky you, Emily Blunt! What a lovely, balanced, song of a relationship. How does one not marry a man that writes a song like that?

Mobile phone paralysis

It's like it got the stroke or something.

The Right and Left cursors work, but the Up and Down ones don't.

The green Pick-up Call button works, but the red End-Call one doesn't.

The left sidekey skips 3 lines when it scrolls, but the right one for the camera works fine.

I adapt and learn new tricks. Scroll sideways 5 times when you want to scroll once up. Text "not" instead of "no" because the predictive text switch doesn't switch.

I'm wondering if this unpleasantry is going to last.

I could, but I don't want to get used to working around things that don't work.

I'm thinking, maybe it's time for a change.

1st post for September

For lack of a better title. Almost every blog I've visited have an entry on random thoughts - I guess this is mine.

It's a mellow Sunday on a 3-day weekend. There really isn't a better word to describe an evening after an afternoon rain, golden sunlight on red rooftiles and the soundtrack of Elizabethtown on the player. Mellow is a word I haven't used a lot of in long time, I am reminded of it from JL's blog where it appears frequently - hope you had a good time in Bali, kid!

"Look closely at the beginning of the heart line. If there are small hairlike influence lines dropping away from the line or passing through it, the owner will be a restless type, constantly looking for something new to stimulate mind and body. It is not unknown for people of this sort to vary a routine journey just for the sake of change".

I have been harsh in my previous entry. Sometimes it isn't ego. It can be truly hard to be happy. You just have no idea how to at times. The negative half of things is real, justifiable and stares you in the face. You will have to consciously look the other way. That's tough.

"..that naive coarseness that women often prefer to the affectations of politeness, because it reveals the depths of thought and proves that feeling has won out over reason".

"Women was created for our ruin, and it is from her that all our miseries come".

:). The above two quotes from The Three Musketeers. I'm barely a third through, but at this point I think I'd like to date Athos.

How do I say this? When there are a million thoughts milling around your system, and sometimes you chance upon one which correctly explains so many others headed in the wrong direction, the relief makes you want to cry.

Death of Sorts

This has been one of those great weekends where Saturday felt like a Sunday, hence Sunday felt like an extra day off. Which has left me time to be pensive over complex topics one should not spend too much time thinking about.

Like being happy. Over Thai food in Penang last Thursday night, my friend LCL tells me that the thing that keeps people from being happy is their Ego. Emm...hmm? She explains that Ego is what causes people the need to feel different from others. When really of course, we are all part of one another and part of the same body of...God.

Stay with me here.

Sometimes I suppose we do revel / wallow in our past experiences, hanging on long past their memorabilia due date because these make us feel that we have encountered a depth of something that others may not be enriched enough to understand, making us more special because we did. We "survived". Add sentimentality and you're singing too much of Pink's "Who Knew" when someone leaves your life - a death of sorts. Add cleverness and sometimes you get prejudice.

Doesn't help either that happiness is a pretty commonplace thing. Let's face it, most of the time we don't realise we had it until we get into an unhappier place and look back. Plus, happiness is a current thing, and living in the present is always scary - running the same circles of lessons unlearnt from the past has at least some hopeless certainty to it.

Maybe we shouldn't be afraid of forgetting since it's harder to forget than we think anyway. Maybe we shouldn't be afraid of a blank canvas everyday, although it may turn out to be empty, lonely or just plain boring.

Gone Snorkeling

Coming to think of it, I really should post an underwater picture, but unfortunately I’m no proud owner of such useful camera gear. Also, this shot will always be special because piqued by the enthusiasm of a certain reassuring MC, it is where I first wander off safe, solid beachfront into the unknown under the cool, blue surface of the sea.

The beach just-around-the-corner of Gem Island, Terengganu

And what a party it is down there! Bulbous corals beckon, and when approached, you find that they are perched on some underwater rock and just beyond is space, storeys and storeys of space that open up below and entice you to dive down and explore. Fish graceful and playful, flitting things which make you think of every colour you’ve ever learnt of – carmine, indigo, teal, in combinations you’d never see on land. Sedentary sea cucumbers on the seabed, sea snails suctioned tight onto rocks, man I even saw an oyster.

And us – how encumbered and clumsy we are with our life jackets, mouthpieces and precious buoyancy, bumping our way through a world where I could not help but think we do not belong. If you stick your hand out and look at it under the water, you will find it an unnatural, unhealthy shade of greenish-grey, not unlike how fish look as they lose their gleam almost immediately when out of water.

Nevertheless, it was such fun to visit – I could almost hear the band carrying on as I made my way back over the sparkling water to land.

Hello Malaysians!

It's Merdeka this month - we are 50. You may not find me at the Putrajaya parade but I still have a certain sentimentality about Tanggal 31 and all that, perhaps quite well represented by this ad in MAS' Going Places. It's a shame that it is so small here, I really liked the shots.


It IS the little things that make being Malaysian great. So many of us take for granted things which we share to an extent that amazingly every Malay, Chinese, Indian and other race in this country can call their own, yet respect that it comes from a different race. Like satay. Mamak. Yong Tau Foo. Our festivals - I've seen Chinese people wear their cheongsams during Hari Raya in the shopping malls just for the heck of it.

And for me, being known and accepted first as a Malaysian, then a Chinese. I don't think that neccessarily goes in that order in other countries of overseas Chinese diaspora.

Living in this country can be frustrating. Snatch thieves, seemingly increasing cases of people being cut up and stuffed in freezers, tunnel vision driving, public transportation networks not linked up, gripes of preferential treatment bla bla.

But you know what? I like it. I still believe in it. I believe in things big and small- like genuinely chummy conversations with cab drivers, the Prime Minister just because he looks like a good man, the layered tastes of our food, our identity. It's hard to define what that is because we are not the kind of people who put labels to things, but ironically that's exactly because we kind of know what's Malaysian and what's not without having to rename the rambutan the Malaysian lychee or something ridiculous like that.

So come back. Stay here. Stay wherever you are. But never forget who we are, and the little, frustrating, hilarious, heart-warming, trying, growing country called Malaysia where we come from.

Happy Merdeka Day!

San Francisco - The 2nd & 3rd week

Shopping, shopping and more shopping. No, I'm just kidding. On the 2nd&3rd week of.. Friscmas? my goodself went to see..

One Exploratorium,

Two pretty cool museums - Asian Art & SF MoMA,

Three very nice bookstores - Adobe in Mission, Alexander in SoMA - opposite KPMG, whaddya know? and Overland in Pac Heights where i was very happy to find lots of Somerset Maugham in very old volumes,

Four guided tours - Local food tour around the city, Muir Woods & pretty Sausalito, Alcatraz - who knew audio tours could be so cool? and Yosemite National Park for a day (spend 2, if you do get the chance),

Five - don't have one for five actually,

Six parks and gardens - Yerba Buena, Japanese Tea Garden, Alice Street Community, Alta Plaza, Lafayette and Delores,

And a host of other things which won't fit in numbers nor a pear tree such as admire-till-you-drop Victorian houses, Union Square (go Macys!) & Gilroy shopping, hippy Haight district, Castro, electric light-bulbed Chinatown, brunch in Noe Valley, sleepy-grand City Hall, dimsum and beautiful Farmer's Markets fruits in Milbrae..and lots of tv on demand in the apartment.

Some of my favourite shots to share:

View of Transamerica Pyramid through Grant Street in Chinatown. I also found a Jack Kerouac street somewhere around here.

One of many ornate features on the walls inside City Hall. After some squinting, this one says:

"San Francisco O Glorious City of our hearts, That hast been tried and not found wanting, Go thou with like spirit to make the future thine".

The underground stage at The Purple Onion, where people like Woody Allen and Barbra Streisand got some of their earlier acts

The weeping maidens at The Palace of Fine Arts. If you look really closely, you can see the seagulls perched on their heads. I thought that was pretty funny.

Me and the Burghers of Calais at Stanford University. Ok so this is from the first week but I like this picture alot so it gets to be posted here. The Burghers were six French civilians who offered to sacrifice themselves to the English to end the siege back in 1347 against Calais, a French port.

THE Yosemite National Park and all its amazing forest and granite rocks. I did a little hike up along the way up to the Vernal Falls, alongside fit and fitter people, grumbling children and encouraging old people. Really great albeit sometimes scary viewpoints from up there.

Landscape north of San Francisco, on the bus ride back from Yosmemite. You might not be able to see it, but those are windmills atop the hill.

Richard Spreckel's (I think) mansion in Pacific Heights. Pretty postbox right? Crazy steep roads back down to Union Street from around here.

And last but not least, the sun setting over the Golden Gate Bridge, taken from the ferry back from Alcatraz tour.

Must not forget: Much thanks & salute! to Ziggy and Denzil for cross-continent IT support in restoring some of these pictures. I had a horrible scare over the weekend when my now-to-be-disposed thumbdrive collapsed with 414 of my shots.

Also big shout-out to Zuf and the boys in Bangladesh - hang in there and come home safely soon! Will keep some chocolates for you guys.

I'm coming home, I've done my time

HK International Airport, Gate 23.

In a very nice way, of course. Tell you guys about the 2nd week a little bit later.

For now, it's 2.30 pm Weds in San Francisco, 5.50 am Thurs in Hong Kong where I am and probably 6.00 am in KL.

I am feeling...good. Alert, and normal, which is i think alot to say when flying through different time zones.

Good 12 hour stretch from SFO, sat next to a kind of short-fused Hongkie teenager who would awake from morose concentrated silences to snap at his dad at the window seat for his seemingly profound ignorance e.g. that HK is a 3 hour (well 15 hours, but 3 when you're adjusting your watch) difference from San Francisco. That, plus a pre-tty noisy baby across the aisle. His mother would give me a hapless, "can you believe this?" look every so often. The patience of parents of babies never ceases to amaze me.

Nevertheless, somehow managed to catch some decent shut-eye.

You know what happens on long-haul flights though? You get really THIRSTY. They don't allow water to be brought onto the plane, it comes in very small plastic cup portions on the flight, and if you are on transit in the middle of the night like me with no HK dollars, the vending machine looks sympathetic but can't do anything to help you.

----

Still HK International Airport, Shopping & Food Area

Thank goodness for fast food places that open at 6. Here I am, rejuvenated by a nice chrysanthemum drink bottled by, let's see Healthworks of Coca-Cola. Fascinating. That is one of my favourite things about travel. Eating and drinking whatever you don't seem to be able to get at home.

You know another thing that's true? All airports really do look the same after a while. Although I have sort of fulfilled my wanderlust for the past 3 weeks, do regret a little not being able to step out and see Hong Kong. It's a strange, time-warpy feeling being stuck in an airport.

San Francisco - The 1st Week

I did plenty! Can't put it all down but here's a quick recap:

Monday 2/7: Arrive. Took the Bart - it's a nice train, something like the LRT.

Tuesday 3/7: Petaluma Outlet shopping. Pretty typical huh? This place is kind of insanely far away from town (but I got to cross the Golden Gate Bridge!), not somewhere I'd suggest attempting on your first day especially when your mind is fighting jetlag. But the 4th of July sale was on, so what was I supposed to do?

Wednesday 4/7: Berkeley. Ziggy goes to graduate school here and was kind enough to take us. We did the Scharffen Berger chocolate tour factory, learnt about nibs and orange chocolate lipgloss. The 4th Street area and shops are really nice - all relaxed and sunshiney. And to round the night off - I got to see 4th of July fireworks from on top of a hill.

Thursday 5/7: Fisherman's Wharf and North Beach. Yes we did the tram - got to stand next to the gripman too, his name was Fish. Clam chowder? Not great. Ripley's Museum? Pretty good fun. North Beach? Nice. Hilly but Coit Tower and the pretty houses and cafes is worth the walk. Here's Janine trying to figure where we're headed outside the St. Peter & Paul church:


Friday 6/7: Googleplex. Yes - the very coveted, "wonder what it's like inside" workplace. Wonder what it's like? No one's dressed for work, dogs are allowed and there are 14 gourmet cafes serving free food. Abit surreal for me.

Stanford University. Wow this is a nice campus. Earthy tones and low-rise buildings. I really liked the church - mosaics and warm colours have always done it for me. They also have a very nice park of Rodin sculptures - check out The Three Shades, now does that man have an appreciation for the human body and muscle shapes or what?



Saturday 7/7: Napa Valley. I remember being very very happy at Mumm - that's a sparkling wine vineyard. And what lovely vineyards - we went to V. Sattui (lunch here - good bbq ribs and deli), Clos Pegase (schmancy man, schamancy), Mumm (classy yet simple) and Clos DuVal (quaint, and so pretty). And then, more outlet shopping - as it turns out there was a Napa Valley Outlet Mall (shrug).

Sunday 8/7: Some Golden Gate Park gardens. It was a pretty chilly day. I liked the Legion of Honor museum alot - there was a pipe organ performance going on when we got there, which made the whole experience terribly atmospheric. Afterwards, Richmond Chinatown for tong sui and grocery shopping. Janine and I cooked up a success that night, notwithstanding toothpaste, falling soba and scrambling crabs. We deserved a big pat on the back. Us and Amy Beh both.

I don't hate you, but

If I knew how to write clever little poems, I'd write one now, but I don't. NPS has correctly advised that I should just forget about the whole thing and get on fabulously with life, which I am, but I am also one for finding words to express exact feelings at certain points in time, so here's an ode of sorts to the ex:

I don't hate you but I do hate how you've made me:

1. Doubt every guy I see and get to know, thinking at some point he'll be able to hurt me, or any girl he's with.

2. Make what could possibly be one of the greatest trips of my life feel like a trip of recovery, rather than that of discovery and appreciation.

3. Have to have these moments where I tell myself "You'll be fine".

4. Feel terrible despite making the right decision.

5. Battle with the hurt of encountering something that reminds me of the good things about you, or us.

6. Cynical. At this point I don't think I could ever write an entry like "World Peas" or "Sniff" again.

So yes I don't hate you, you make that hard because you're a "nothing but nice" sort of person and full of vague yet cleverly phrased answers like "I don't have an answer for that yet", and "I don't know why you still want to speak to me" which detracts from the ugly chronology of the case.

So yes, lessons learnt and fingers burnt. Now let me go get on with the business of getting over it.

Arriving in San Francisco

Because it was a stupefying question to me before I left as to what a person would do on a 17-hour flight from KL to SF, here's sharing what I actually did:

1. Browse in-flight sales magazine.

2. Pore through in-flight entertainment magazine. Which on SIA I must say, the entertainment is pretty darn good (see below). There were at least 8 movies i ticked to be watched / get excited about.

3. Flipped a couple random unmemorable magazines..gourmet food etc etc.

4. Movies!

The Land of Women - which is a terrible name for a really good movie. Love Adam Brody. And Meg Ryan.

Pretty Woman - not sure if the whole hooker makes good thing is still so condoned, but still, she had spunk and it was a good movie.

Black Snake Moan - if Justin Timberlake had 10 more minutes, the whole movie would be ruined. Boy's acting is okay, but eclipsed by the likes of Christina Ricci and Samuel L. Jackson.

5. Buy guilinggao at HK airport - had it confiscated before boarding..very annoyed.

6. Nap. Can you believe how lucky I was? On all legs the seat next to me was empty, so there was room, well some room to stretch out and sleep. VERY thankful for small stature.

7. Eat. If you ever get the Indian menu option, opt for it. The mango chutney is amazing.

And...4 airports, 2 airport transfers, 1 train ride later, here I am in the very lovely apartment of the very lovely JYoong and Ziggy, having crepes and thinking about how the weather is somewhat like autumn in Sydney. Only of course, this is summer.

Pinch me - I still don't quite believe I'm here.

Peter Pan

Why didn't anyone tell me that this is such a sad story? I cried when I read the ending. I mean, there is just something so bloody tragic about how Peter forgets that Wendy has grown up and comes back every year for her, thinking she'll still be the little girl that will fly away to spring clean with him.

Imagine the shock. The betrayal! The sense of loss!

But then of course, he got over it and started off with some other little girl again. Because he's "gay and innocent and heartless" and all, but still the whole thing about everyone else growing up and leaving Peter behind again and again WITHOUT him knowing it, and him in turn forgetting them quite callously, actually, just made me weepy all over again.

So much for fairytales being light bedside reading material.

Blogthings

To take a page out of Doubleaye's blog (hello!love your pages btw) this is what my birthday means, can you believe it?

I can see some people, yea yea I know who you are who are probably lol-ing and going "yeah, right. puh-leeze" - own up renhorng! but you know what? It's true, actually. It is. Never thought of rose being a powerful colour, i'll admit..but the rest, not something you might see on me everyday if you don't know me well enough, but it's true. A free computer generated thingy has somehow got it quite right.

Your Birthdate: February 6

You tend to be a the rock in relationships - people depend on you. Thoughtful and caring, you often put others needs first. You aren't content to help those you know... you want to give to the world. An idealist, you strive for positive change and dream about how much better things could be. Your strength: Your intuition Your weakness: You put yourself last Your power color: Rose Your power symbol: Cloud Your power month: June

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

You know what is really great?

1. Introducing Joss Stone - the album. Summery.
2. Little Miss Sunshine - the movie. Real.
3. Cicely Mary Barker - the drawings. Pretty.
4. Herbalists - the knowledge. Whimsical.
5. San Francisco in July - the trip. Rejuvenating.

If you google yourself..

you sometimes find that you, or your namesake at least are already famous.

In my case, I am an Asian diner in just about 20 states across the US. I knew this earlier, but just sharing this with you guys now because a. I am too distracted to work (nobody works after OD-ing on an entire season of Grey's Anatomy) and b. it is really fascinating. Check out the site man - i have a logo and all.

The Big Bookstore sale

Is on at Atria in Damansara Jaya from now until end of the month (or 10th June I can't quite remember).

It is with some reservation that I divulge this information to you people, because seriously, I think these Big Bookstore people have no idea about the value of the books they are selling.

Almost all paperbacks go for 10-12 ringgit. And these are good books - same titles you would find in MPH / Borders. Travel journals, fiction, classic, bestsellers, conspiracy theories, collectible giftbooks, really-great-children-books, cookbooks etc etc AND etc.

Only word of warning - the fiction and paperbacks especially are mostly just arranged by size? rather than any other particular order. It's pretty random so don't get frustrated if you can't find a particular author / title you're looking for. Rather, I just tend to sift through and pick out whatever may look fascinating.

Can't wax the same lyrical over the Book Fair in KLCC Convention Centre, unfortunately. One big Popular bookstore in a fancy building - with RM2 entrance fee.

Change

You know what change is like sometimes? It's like learning a new song in a language you don't understand.

You watch closely the words that are coming out of peoples' mouths, and you mouth along with them. You don't know what it means, and it doesn't make any sense but you say it. And repeat it to yourself again and again until the words develop shapes and meaning. Until you eventually learn it.

Why do you do it? Because you have to. Because although there is a kind of comfort in understanding the situation you are in, understanding it doesn't make it better. Because there are things that you can't tell yourself. Because it is people whom you believe in, and believe in you who are telling you these things.

You don't become someone different. I was relieved when I figured that out. It's not that easy to become someone different. Who a person is, is so much bigger than what the person can control. But if you force it, try to make change tangible, then all you get is a small, superficial, subset of what you are trying to become. That, and an overly loud voice (your own, actually) trying to convince yourself of your "new" self.

So just be. Know that it doesn't happen overnight. Know that you can be different things in a day. There will be days when you know things are better, and there will be days when you realise they are not fine yet. Like in a break-up, there will be looking in the mirror and seeing the sadness in your own eyes, but there will also be a day where you see sadness, but you'll have strength to let it run through you without looking away.

Point being, change does not neccessarily make things better all at once. Rather, in choosing to act, to make some changes, you've earned the right to have some clarity over what's going on in your life. And I'll tell you this - while it may be painful, the sensation of lucidity which flows through your body right up to your fingertips sure beats the numbness of the easier but pointless fantasising / rehashing of "what could have" or "what really" happened.

Till I Wise Up

On the soundtrack of Jerry Maguire, there is this song by Aimee Mann which says, "It's not going to stop, til you wise up".

Caution - this entry is about my recent break-up. Again. And I'm sorry if the previous few entries have not been happy ones, but you know what, it's a bleeding miserable time.

I am pretty sure what happened now. It's one of the oldest stories in the books, it's stupid and it ain't pleasant - but I'll leave that for another day. I'll post it for sure, because I'll need it on PMS-raged days, or rainy days when I might get convolutedly compassionate where no compassion is called for or when self-doubt sets in. A break-up done wrong can be devastating, not just because of the emotional loss, but the loss of self-esteem as well.

Today I will talk about lessons. Cycles. Repetition. Same kind of guys I seem to keep going out with. Guys who leave me because they seemingly don't want to "hold me back". Guys who can't lead me. Taurean guys. Guys who need fixing or some kind of polishing to make them whole. Guys who cry when they say goodbye yet neither flinch or look back. Do I attract them or do I get attracted to them for some reason? Here's the honest truth - I like fixing people. I like seeing the best in people which they don't see themselves, and draw it out of them. I like giving people time. I keep thinking, one day he'll be "All That" and I would've been "The girl who did it with him". Sk8terBoi style. This has not happened yet.

Maybe I can love saving people, but shouldn't fall in love with such characters.

And I've somehow always been riled up by Type-A guys; the smug, clever ones who are so damned sure of themselves. Why? I don't know. Why? Maybe because I think girls who are equally clever do not feel the need to act as smug. Maybe because I think smart guys never really want to go out with smart girls. Maybe because I think I'm one of the so-called "smart girls"? Sure, why not.

And I'm not sure if I'm totally wrong. I wasn't right, that's for sure and that's hard for me to take. It shakes me. I am shaken. I missed a meeting at work today - I've never done that, not unintentionally anyway.

But Dorothy Boyd says "At least I can do something about it now". I am going to try. It's hard - learning about yourself is always hard, especially when you have to do it alone. But let's face it, it's the situations where you're most alone like dealing with a death, being lost in a forest etc. where you learn most about yourself, isn't it?

Last Night in Bintulu

And an eventful one it is. Tonight I met one guy who has been happily married for two years and another guy who is unhappily about to be married.

The first one keeps a video of his wedding on his mobile and shows it to us like it's any other event in his life, such as his last fishing trip. I kind of liked that - apart from the gloss of being supposedly "the" event of your life, it was also one of the things he liked enough to share on an everyday basis.

The other guy just got registered for marriage today, and somewhere between one and too many drinks asked me, if there was anything wrong with marrying one person, but loving another. I just gave him a reproachful look, but in hindsight I think I should've told him that I didn't think he should get married at all.

But really, I wasn't sure. At first you think you have all the right answers about these things, but who's to say video guy won't stop being happy tomorrow, and soon-to-be-married guy won't start?

Anyhow. Bintulu. It's been an interesting time - the place has its unexpected charms, we made some friends and there were some firsts - open sea fishing with a bunch of divers being one of them. If you think about it, it's actually quite safe. Afterall, since the greatest danger is really that of drowning, what's the worry since you have a boat to pick you up and an oxygen tank if you need one?

Maybe Angels

The Catholics – they have angels. Beings that watch over you, because God is so great that sometimes human beings can’t really ‘see’ and communicate with Him.

Mine sits with me. He looks somewhat like Billy Crudup, and he sits on the side on the bath tub while I lean against the door and bawl my eyes out. I give him a look which says it all, and he gives me a look which says that he understands.

I come and sit next to him. I tell him I am defeated and I am tired. He says, “That’s ok”. It helps to know that it’s ok to be defeated and tired. We sit for awhile more.

Dear Charles and Poh Suan, congratulations and God bless. May the angels be watching over you too.

Soy sauce, television and fair skin

Apparently these are things which make husbands and children of Asian, Chinese in particular women want to come home to them.

In one particular soy sauce advertisement, a woman manages to get her eating-out husband to come home for dinner by switching to a more delicious soy sauce brand. Same with the ad selling TVs, where a lonely mum and wife upgrades to a bigger screen to entice her son and husband back to the house. And in a Taiwanese ad, a precocious 6-year old actually tells his mum that she's not good-looking because her skin is dark! Upon which she purchases a Dr Bai skin whitening cream and it all ends happily ever after.

Why does this kind of idiocy still exist, unfortunately more predominantly in the Asian culture? And why is it husbands and mostly sons, not daughters?

I do hope that these manufacturers are wrong. About the number of Chinese men AND women who buy into these concepts. Yes I think it'd be nice to be able to cook a good meal, and yes MiCasa SuCasa may translate into having a 41" for some but really, in the end I hope that my husband or children will come home to me simply because I'm me. And God grant me the strength to not buy some stupid condiment or night cream to measure my self-worth by.

Hermit crabbing

We have hermit crabs. From the beach of Similajau National Park of Bintulu, Sarawak.

My colleague RL had this epiphany while on the beach that we should pick up some crabs which are apparently sold for like RM20 each in KL and keep them as pets.

So now in our hotel room in a takeaway box (which www.hermit-crabs.com/ tells me is not quite the right crabitat but we'll figure something out), we have about 15 active crustaceans and a clam, which frankly quite shocked us by turning out to be alive.

We feed them all a diet of drinking water and Quaker oats which they seem to enjoy, and these guys have really been quite entertaining with their daily clambering and digging, and more clambering and more digging - it's incredibly peaceful yet intriguing to watch.

Some trivia, correct me if I'm wrong but it seems that hermit crabs:

1. Move backwards or sideways but never forward

2. Move their legs in circular breast-strokes, which sort of explains how they form those sandballs on the beach

3. Like standing on each other alot

4. Have one big and one small claw..

...and we're still learning.

I managed to cajole the hotel's housekeeping guy to feed the boys (we like to believe they are boys) over the long Labour Day / Wesak weekend. Apart from being slightly worried they might get out of the box and under the sheets, he's pretty game. Have I mentioned how great these Everly people are?

Reality bites..more like chomps away savagely at your guts

When I was a young-er person, I made several vows, if you like to myself i.e.

1. To always do what I think is God's work, and
2. To never forget what it feels like to be a child

Now these, while having served me well have also landed me in a fair bit of trouble. Trouble meaning?

Meaning believing unrealistically in the fundamental good of people, and expecting again unrealistically, that people should act a certain way because of how you treat them. And believe in them. And try for them. And of course the older and wiser will rightly expect, this has ended up in SO many disappointments to-date in this disgusting period of my 20s, where apart from crash landing on the hard tarmac of real life you're also supposed to find your place on it.

It's 12.45am and no time to be politically correct.

There is fundamental good in people. It's just that together with it there is fear, weakness, self-preservation instincts, priorities, whatever!else that push come to shove makes them act...differently from how you thought they would. And like a child, each time it happens I am still surprised - why would someone do that to me?

Work has helped. 4 years have helped me separate responsibility from commitment, and the understanding of how to meld the two again if I want to. It has made me see that sometimes there is a need to make bad decisions for some people in order to make a good decision for more in the end. More importantly, just because someone or something is the centre of your world does not mean you are the centre of theirs. And vice-versa.

So now....while I still think it's bloody hard to do God's work I do think that praying for clarity shows me the path to do what is right, objectively by everyone involved, and usually that is pretty much the best decision there is. And the other part of the pact? I'll take the wonderment, and but with some armory involved. You need it to keep it.

Back in Bintulu

for another month or so. Here;

1. The stars are really bright at night

2. There's a surprising amount of seamstresses around town - under staircases, in houses, near supermarkets, upstairs of shoplots - I've appointed a particular Shirley myself, whom I am currently overwhelming with bales of Japanese-inspired-Indonesian fabric and Project Runway dreams

3. Fruits are beautiful, wild and strange - thorny longans, pink starfruits, snakeskin fruit, sappy dates called dabai, and the list goes on.

Gray's Anatomy Season 3! is on tv - gotta go.

Wounded, Pruned, Shaken, Threshed, Sifted, Ground and Kneaded

On 24 March my two-years-and-a-week-shy-of-7 months relationship ended.

While this is one of the most private things to have happened, I feel that I should say something about it here since this is supposed to be about things that happen to me when they do, for better or worse right?

So.

A week ago I might've wrote something different. I might've tried to tell you what happened or at least what I thought happened. I might've tried to explain what it's like to not know what to think or feel about something that you thought you knew most about. I wanted to tell you about how somehow through this break-up I found myself again in the hearts of friends and family, who whether they knew it or not, nothing short of reached in and literally saved me. I am fine, because they tell me I will be.

But today I am going to tell you that it is a wound. A big festering thing for the past three weeks that, in a way exploded last Saturday night amidst too much Heineken and bloody Westlife. :).

Just like a gash on your head you dread each time you remember it's there, knowing that it will hurt to the touch. When you do accidentally brush against it - you wince and can't really believe it - then you remember in a rush of blurry pain how it got there in the first place.

I literally walk around like an injured person, my feet drag and my mind is semi-focused on just getting through the day. I pace myself because I have only myself to get through this with- this hurt which is ironically caused by the one person who was simply, my sanctuary in other times of pain.

But just like other wounds, i'm thinking the sides will start to dry out, the scab will grow and one day the centre - the red, bloody pulsating middle which just when you think will never heal, will.

Someday...I will be Saturday night. I just hope that when I do it will not take as much as I think it will to make me really smile again.

Where to Stay in Bintulu

If you ever come to Bintulu, Sarawak and need someplace to stay, choose Everly Parkcity.

It’s my favourite kind of business hotel - a little place which works hard and makes good choices. The lifts are efficient, porters are quick and use of space is smart.

The décor (newly refurbished) is not ostentatious and features are actually functional e.g. the pretty hanging things which you see from the lobby are lights for the sunken café. Unlike Marriot IOI Putrajaya, where the huge pillars and well, just…pillars…and have pineapple (?) motives on top of them for reasons only the designer him/herself knows.

The rooms are spick-and-span, water pressure is strong and the beds are GREAT; smooth crisp linen and pillows that are just-the-right height.

The food I would consider to be good, although there were some hits and misses at dinner, but that could be due to us ordering something out of the menu..haha. But the pizza, is really worth a mention. It stands on its own in competition with Itallianies or Pizza Uno, not just something you eat because you have to eat in the hotel, you know?

Above and beyond all, the people of Everly are its greatest charm. It’s not about the rehearsed welcome smile and niceties, plenty of that in KL where I come from, but it’s about just being in tune with what people really need when they need them and well, simply providing it. Maybe it’s because they’re genuinely good people at heart, or there's some x-factor in their training - probably abit of both, but Management, you should be proud that you’re doing something right and that your people really live your “Best 4-star Hotel in Malaysia for Service Award” status.

So if you do fly MAS, and do see the ad in the in-flight mag which says “Everly Awaits You..” believe it, and come. Let these people warm your weary, business-traveller heart and show you what a good hotel is really about.

Have you loved before?

"And with a great voice he said,

When love beckons you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in clinging to the earth.
Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked
He sifts you to free you from your husks
He grinds you to whiteness
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, "I am in the heart of God".
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night
To know the pain of too much tenderness
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving
To rest at noon and meditate love's ecstasy
To return home at eventide with gratitude
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."

The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran

It's long, it is easy to forget - I forget it too sometimes but I think every word is true.

Have you loved before?